


Shoot Out Score

by Anonymous



Series: Point Problems [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sid finally breaks the drought. Kind of.





	Shoot Out Score

“Sid, Sid, Sid, Sid.” Geno chants his name over and over as Sid backs him into the supply closet deep within the bowels of the Bridgestone Arena.

They’re both still sweaty from the game and hopped up on adrenaline and Geno is running on some extra confusion.

It was a loss.

They just lost. Again.

But Sid caught his eye and held it as the rest of the team filed down the tunnel and Geno felt something shift.

Sid tapped his stick against the back of his thighs and told him ‘good job’ barely audible over the roar of the crowd before he followed after him.

They got their skates and gear off and Geno was just about to strip off his under armor when Sid walked by him, slow, and tapped his hand against his shoulder.Geno looked up and couldn’t take his eye off the sway of his back as he sauntered toward the door.

He paused and looked back at Geno and Geno immediately stood up and followed him with only one sock on.

The floor is cold beneath his un-socked foot but Sid his hot up against him as he kisses up and down his neck.

“Sid.” He curls his fingers around his Sid’s shoulders but Sid pushes back harder.

The shelf behind him digs into his back and something falls off and onto the ground but Geno doesn’t care about anything except Sid’s hand snaking beneath his shirt and his thick thigh wedging between his own. 

He drops his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. It would be so easy to get lost in this. Sid seems more than content to take over by the rolling of his hips and the way his breath is coming out in sharp pants against his neck. 

It’ll be over quick. Geno’s been waiting for this for years. 

_But._

He’s been waiting for this for years and this is not how he thought that this would go. 

After a loss in enemy territory in a closest that smells like artificial lemon cleaner. 

“Sid. Stop. Wait.”

Sid backs off immediately. His fingertips brush against his skin of his stomach and he pulls away and Geno cants his hips up to follow him. 

He’s going to kill the mood with this.

“You know we lost, right? Shoot out. I missed and then Tanger missed.”

“Yeah.” Sid huffs a laugh. “I know. But my shot went in. It’s not going to count for anything official but it still went in.”

Geno holds Sid’s face in his hands, his thumbs are against the corners of his lips. “Happy for you, Sid.”

“Yeah. It means it still works. I mean-. I didn’t mean it like that.”

It’s too late because Geno is laughing hard enough to tip forward and rest his forehead on Sid’s shoulder. “Sid, know it still works.”

Sid pokes at his side until he straightens up. “It’s getting better,” Sid says. “Slowly. We’ll get there. _I’ll_ get there.”

“Told you. Maybe when it does we celebrate somewhere that’s not so….”

“Gross,” Sid finishes. “It’s gross in here. I just wanted to touch you.”

Geno takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Can always touch me, Sid.”

“Next time I score in regulation.”

Geno groans. “Better do it quick.”

Sid grins. “Or what?”

“Nothing. I wait for you forever.”

Sid’s smile is beautiful and soft and so is the kiss he gives him when he leans in. 

He holds his hand out to him and squeezes when Geno takes it. “Come one. They’ll be wondering where we are.” 


End file.
